


Sorey's Summer Without Mikleo

by StoryTellerOfLunchTime (Cooem)



Series: Modern AU Childhood Friends [3]
Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Growing Up, Immaturity, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-09 23:06:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10423821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cooem/pseuds/StoryTellerOfLunchTime
Summary: Things are awkward between Mikleo and Sorey now as they sort out their feelings for each other. But their bond goes deeper than friendship, and even deeper than brotherhood. How will Sorey figure out his feelings for Mikleo before it's too late?Alternate universe where they grew up together living in Lailah's home.





	1. Mikleo Left Today

**Author's Note:**

> This story can be read independently, or together with the other stuff in the series. The only things you need to know are: they live in Lailah's home in adjacent bedrooms, that Mikleo is romantically in love with Sorey, and Sorey just found out and is just totally confused. This story is about Sorey sorting it all out by himself, without Mikleo by his side for the first time in his life.

It's almost 4am on a Friday night, but at Ladylake Radio’s studio, the airwaves are still reverberating with laughter and energy, like a party between old friends still in full swing. 

DJ Lailah is bidding a caller farewell with a last piece of kindly advice, “And remember, he will understand your feelings if you allow yourself to be open to him.”

DJ Zaveid chimes in with his best sexy seductive voice, “and it doesn't get any more _open_ than making him a sandwich wearing an apron and nothing else.”

Lailah shakes her head and chuckles softly behind a graceful hand. Zaveid always comes across as trying too hard, but his dramatic flair is just perfect over the radio. Fans probably assume it's his radio personality to liven the mood over the sleepy early A.M. hours, but Lailah is thankful Zaveid found his true vocation. Being just a voice over the winds affords him an outlet to be as outwardly flirtatious and scandalous as possible, while maintaining an absolute wall between the world and his permanently broken heart. 

Zaveid's chipper voice brings Lailah out of her thoughts, “---and our last caller before Miss Lailah flies to Italy is, _Soren_. How you doing Soren?” 

A young, sincere voice joins them over the air, “I’m doing well? Actually, not so good…?” His sheepishness was so obvious that anyone can imagine the young man ruffling the hair on the back of his head, with a slight blush on his usually bright face. 

Lailah stifled a giggle and Zaveid can be heard guffawing loudly away from his covered mic. This is the first time Lailah’s sort-of-nephew, early to bed Sorey, had called the late late night program; her other sort-of-nephew, night hawk Mikleo, calls the operator frequently but only ever requests songs. Even without the terrible pseudonym, the two adults, who watched Sorey and Mikleo grow up in Lailah's home, recognise that sunshine voice instantly. 

Lailah didn't leave the air dead, of course. “Is this about the upcoming summer vacation, _Soren_?” 

Sorey stammers “No. Yes. Yes! (Sigh) My family is going away on vacation for the whole summer and I'll be all alone.” 

Lailah can only imagine her listeners letting out a collective “aww” when they hear that sweet voice sounding so sad. Sorey has always had a charming effect on people without realising it. Sorey is usually slow to realise things in general. 

Zaveid offers his Sage Manly Advice™, “That sounds great! Fill the house with hotties and party till the sun comes up! You're probably even old enough to drink n-OW!---” (Lailah threw a sharp beaked paper crane at Zaveid's face) “Life is too short to brood, my man, you need to reach out and _take_ as many babes as you can while you're young! Get to _know_ them, in the ancient sense I mean of course.”

Lailah can't exactly disagree with Zaveid's message of “enjoy your youth”, even if she objects very much to his tone. “Soren, it will feel lonely without your family, especially if you're unused to it, but there are all kinds of wonderful technology now! I'm sure you can _hold_ up for just three months because the love your family has for you isn't _phoney_

The awful pun didn't seem to cheer the young man up. “What if they don't want me anymore when they come back? What if that's why they're leaving in the first place?” 

There's a lot more going on here than can be addressed over the last minutes of air time, of course. Lailah desperately wants to have that long talk with Sorey when she gets home, but her flight, and Mikleo's flight, is in a few hours. 

Zaveid switches to his rarely used, serious voice, “Then you win them back. You take every shot you can and you rush at every opportunity to bridge that gap. Ain't never too late until it's too late, you feel me?” 

The boys will be fine, Lailah tells herself. They were orphaned at a young age but they were raised by two entire villages, hers included. Things are awkward between Mikleo and Sorey now as they sort out their feelings for each other. But their bond goes deeper than friendship, and even deeper than brotherhood. It is her solemn vow that she will make sure they are fine, for their mothers’ sake as well as hers. 

“Soren,” she adds gently, “sometimes being apart can give those too close together a unique chance to see each other anew.” 

Lailah looks at the clock; they’re out of time. She adds, “I’ll end tonight's program with this final thought. A family is a hug: even with eyes closed you can feel them around you. Friendship is standing shoulder to shoulder, watching the same world over the same horizon. But lovers, they stand face to face. They carefully observe their beloved, and see a new part of themselves reflected only in their eyes. I hope everyone finds happiness, and have a fantastic summer!”

Sorey isn’t so sure that his summer will be fantastic, but he’s determined to try and find happiness. With that last thought, he falls asleep instantly from staying up way way too late. 

\----

When he wakes up, it was already noon, which means he had missed his chance to see Lailah and Mikleo off at the airport. He groans and sulks to the bathroom, where he discovers Mikleo had written “palm” on his forehead with a sharpie. His right palm says “foot”, and his left foot says “belly”. How dead asleep was he?! Sorey smiles in spite of himself, peels off his shirt, and finds Mikleo’s last inscription on his body, written in neat tiny cursive letters, an inch above his belly button: “see ya”.


	2. Sorey Says Bye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sorey sends a belated bye bye to Mikleo since he missed seeing him off at the airport

Sorey’s Instagram has new pictures. 

The first is a selfie. He's holding back his wild bangs with one hand, grinning so big his eyes almost closed. His forehead looks kind of pink, almost like it's scrubbed raw. 

The second is of his right palm, open wide as fingers could stretch. Sorey is right handed so this one is a bit blurry. He wasn't in a hurry to upload and could have retaken it, but Sorey isn't the kind of guy to stand in front of a mirror to take dozens of pictures before picking the best one. That's Mikleo. On Sorey's right palm, someone wrote with a black sharpie the word “foot”.

The next picture is of Sorey's foot. It's a strong, large foot with a callous on the ball of the foot right between his big toe and second toe. Sorey's pinky toe is very short and almost rounded in the way it curls. Mikleo likes to stretch it straight and watch it curls back. But not as much as he likes to tickle the middle. In the same hand writing, Mikleo wrote “belly”, the y curled up into itself just like Sorey's pinky toe. 

The last picture is upside down. Sorey has one hand scrunching up his shirt, exposing his well defined abs and just a hint of his muscular pecs. Upside down, just an inch above Sorey's belly button, is Mikleo's goodbye message to Sorey: “See ya”. Right next to it in a different colour Sharpie and all caps, Sorey added the words “OKAY!! BYE!” His skin glistens a little, these were taken probably by a freshly showered Sorey. If one looks again, there's no hint of any waist band of pants where the photo crops out.

Mikleo checks his phone the moment his plane lands, and blushes furiously when he sees these pictures. Mikleo has a bit of a hard time going to bed that night, pillow pressed into his face, thinking about what if he's chosen to write an inch beneath Sorey's belly button instead. But it could just be jet lag.


	3. Fight / Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sorey uses his time wisely

It feels like it's been a long day, but Sorey is still wired with manic energy from the strange situation of not having Mikleo or Lailah home. Sorey spends most of the afternoon outside organising the shed and fixing the lawn mower, being healed by the scent of sweat, grass and outdoors.

When the sun is setting and yard work all done, Sorey finally realises he hasn't eaten all day. Subconsciously, he has been waiting for his family to be home, for life to return to normalcy. The usual routine of happily chatting while prepping for the chefs, and then being served delicious meals, isn't going to happen today. Logically, Sorey has known since last month, when the friends had that momentous talk where Mikleo decided he's going to Italy with Lailah, that this day is coming. It's been circled on the calendar until the paper wore through. But, not being a logically driven person, Sorey is surprised all over again. 

Sorey's ability to not let things bog him down for long is both a blessing and a curse. It's true that he's very resilient against sadness and negative emotions because he can see the bright side in everything and latches onto it with uncanny strength. But it's also true that Sorey can too easily dismiss a problem as “solved” with sheer optimism, and stop giving it any further thoughts, thereby getting stuck when the situation inevitably flairs up again. 

He's bounced around outside the house all day like an unsupervised toddler, but now that he's very hungry, he sulks over to the chest freezer to grab something Mikleo and/or Lailah prepped beforehand. 

When the familiar fragrance of Mikleo's cooking wafts from the microwave, Sorey's spirits pick up again and he shakes off any momentary loneliness from 3 minutes ago. “It'll be okay,” he says out loud to himself. He takes out Lailah's placemat and Mikleo's placemat and put them at their usual places, along with his. Doing that doesn't feel silly to Sorey, but going further with cutlery and water glass would be too far. “Thank you for the meal!”, he says cheerily aloud to the empty house. 

Sorey lifts the lid off the steaming box, and is greeted by a large piece of eggplant right at the top of the boxed dinner. Sorey is very mildly allergic to eggplant; it makes his lips kind of tingly and numb for a short while. There's no way Mikleo forgot. The vegetable looks deliberately _planted_ there (“miss you already, Lailah”): not enough to render the food inedible, easily removable, and very noticeable right away. 

Sorey reflects that Mikleo has been slightly passive aggressive for the last little while. Basically, he runs hot and cold. 

Around February when Sorey came down with a fever, Mikleo was sweet and attentive as usual. The next morning when Sorey felt better, Mikleo sat down at the edge of the bed and beckoned Sorey to come closer with a smile and an extended hand. When Sorey scooted close enough to welcome Mikleo's cool hand on his hot forehead, Mikleo curled his thumb and index finger, surprising Sorey with a harsh flick instead of a gentle caress. The sense of betrayal stung far worse than the flick. They'd laughed it off then, but looking back, Sorey now sees that this was part of Mikleo's recent ambivalence towards him. 

Now that Sorey is thinking about it, other examples become obvious. Beautifully wrapped Valentine's cookies that were slightly burnt for him and perfectly nice ones for Lailah. Mikleo’s recent propensity to order exactly the same thing when eating out, so they can't swap flavours like before. The slow disappearance of vanilla soft serve over the recent months in favor of green tea. The sweet hugs and forehead kisses when Mikleo tucks Sorey into bed, couple with the subsequent locking of Mikleo's side of the bedroom door. All this against the backdrop of growing physical intimacy. They have grown much closer and more estranged over the past year. 

And today, a delicious hand made meal with eggplant. Sorey eats it anyway, thoughtfully, welcoming the tingling numbness of his lips for the next few hours. 

That night when they talked about their relationship, Mikleo had cried sad bitter tears, and so had Sorey, for different reasons. Mikleo had been clear he wanted to give up on his feelings and go back to being just friends. Sorey had made extravagant promises to stay Mikleo's hand.The next day, Sorey wasn't sure if that was the right decision for Mikleo at all. That uncertainty made their interaction extra awkward recently, and Sorey still isn't entirely sure how to proceed. He wants to try, but it's perhaps just yet another selfish debt he gets into that Mikleo has pays for.

Smiling from feeling full of yummy food, Sorey walks through the empty house with staccatoed thoughts, idly touching random artifacts left by his family, humming improvised tunes. Near the front door, on a whim, he puts on Lailah's reading glasses, which make his vision slightly blurry. Into the living room, he impulsively hops over the back of the couch and dings his knee on the coffee table, laughing at the pain. Outside Lailah's bedroom, he lovingly slides a piece of wrapped chocolate through the crack of the door, giggling at the thought of Lailah coming back to hundreds of tiny of offerings. Up the stairs, he touches each picture frame, now straightening one and now making silly faces at another. Down the hall, he stops, crouches, and takes a long jump towards his and Mikleo's bedrooms, reenacting countless childhood contests. 

He pauses at his own door, and decides to go into Mikleo's instead. He smiles to himself as he takes Mikleo's 6 feet long wooden staff out of the closet, and shoots imaginary targets with his long, imaginary laser rifle, complete with pew pew pew noises. He walks through the common bathroom, knocking all the towels off the rack, then into his bedroom and uses the bo staff to fluff/beat up his own pillow. 

Despite having had a rough night last night, and a busy day today, Sorey doesn't want to sleep yet. He hasn't showered from being outside all day anyway. Back down the stairs, still wearing Lailah's glasses and holding Mikleo's staff, the boy decides he needs more exercise. He clears the living room of furniture one by one, pushing the couches against the wall and into hallway. He's got plenty of time to put it all back anyway. 

Humming another improvised heroic theme, he tries to recall unfamiliar bo staff martial arts moves he learned a long while ago. He starts with slower, more restricted movements. Then, gaining confidence and joy, he uses his space and his body more deliberately and freely with every move. Soon, his mind clears of thoughts about day to day life, and Sorey basks in the current moment of freedom and the drum beat of his racing heart. 

A casual observer might see a sad little boy surrounding himself with toys left by the guardians who abandoned him. But Sorey isn't one to sit and weep in a corner. He's a fighter. 

His usual weapon of choice is much shorter, mostly about power and speed. Mikelo’s is about controlling an opponent's movement and distance. 

Gramps is their first Aikido teacher: strict, strong, and fair. Mikleo and Sorey have always been each other's sparring partner, perfectly in sync with each other’s movements and intentions, like partners in tango or ice dancing. Since moving into the city, even though the city's dojo offers many more opportunities to spar with others, they lack the foundation of communication built up over almost two decades. Sorey loves watching Mikleo execute his movements with perfect grace and control over every breath and gesture. Sorey himself loves the roar of adrenaline and the sheer joy of rushing his body through space, connecting with another person physically in a harmonious, instinctive level.

In Aikido there are no competitions, only cooperation. But Sorey loves seeing that proud, secret glint in Mikleo's eyes when he invariably challenges Sorey to read his next move, or a dare to come closer without being struck down. Extrapolating their sparring relationship to the bigger picture, Sorey uses his body like a mechanical computer to work out the puzzle in his mind.

Mikleo made his move first. Because Sorey wasn't able to read the challenge properly, Mikleo had his pride terribly wounded. But now Sorey has announced his intention to advance, to move within Mikleo's sphere of control, even at the same time Mikleo moves to defend and perhaps withdraw. Sorey understands better than anyone of Mikleo's true strength: he won't admit defeat so easily. This was a challenge for Sorey to rise to the occasion in response. Sorey will answer with the swiftness and strength of a swordsman. 

\----

[Mikleo's side]

The next day, finally completing the long journey to Italy, Mikleo had a wonderful day meeting Lailah's old friends from the fashion world. The first of their many destinations is Rome, with lots of cool history to satisfy Mikleo for the rest of the summer. But already, Lailah's friends are raving about Mikleo's slender build and his androgynous, ethereal beauty, determined to have him dressed and photographed in as many outfits as possible for the next three months. Mikelo doesnt like to be fussed over, but all too aware of his own beauty, he is secretly looking forward to trying on a bunch of outfits as well.

Feeling slightly buzzed and more than slightly smug, before bed time, Mikleo checks messages from Sorey again. 

“Check out these lips!! Thanks a bunch, Mikleo, I hold you personally responsible. But really, thanks, your stuff was delicious.” Attached is a close up picture of Sorey's soft lips, tiny bit more puffy than usual, slightly parted. Sorey puckers his lips to complain about the eggplant which Mikleo has already forgotten about, but his expression ends up looking demure instead. Mikleo fumes some more. The fact that Sorey isn't even deliberately pushing Mikleo's mind into the gutter just makes it that much more frustrating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies if any Aikidoka are reading and I've gotten things wrong. Let me know if you can and I'd be happy to fix things.


	4. The Gospel According To Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sorey asks Rose for advice on love

Outside his Aikido dojo’s change room, Sorey is spacing out, absentmindedly touching the band-aid on his belly. He isn't injured, but the band-aid is there to protect something that feels more intimate than a scar. 

When he arrived today, the hakama part of his martial arts uniform, with its long skirt pleats and complicated straps, was still beautifully folded into a complicated pattern by Mikleo. Now, after practice is over, Sorey thinks to himself that he needs to brush up on how it’s done neatly like that. This is just one of the many things they outsource to each, and he now has 3 months to discover many others. Sorey wonders if Mikleo will miss his butter cookies the way he already misses his folded up hakama. 

Three months is a long time when the two friends have been together almost every day of their lives since birth. More than three months, Sorey thinks with an unfamiliar sinking feeling. Mikleo already graduated and will be moving to the university dormitory when he returns. 

A punch to his upper arm snaps him out of the thought. “Yo! Space cadet!” Rose says cheerily. 

Sorey catches Rose’s jolly mood, and reflects it back with his own smile, adding even more cheer. “Rose! Hey, can you show me how to fold my hakama? I’ll buy you ice cream after.” Sorey respects that Rose has always been clear about her “tit for tat” policy; he’s thankful for how straight forward she is overall. He can trust her to be completely honest, and he is in need for some honest insights. 

“Alright! Double cone with gummy bears!” Rose doesn’t even hesitate to name her price, which Sorey appreciates. She begins to show Sorey how to fold the uniform on the floor. “No Mikleo today huh. It’s not a date alright, just so you’re clear.”

“Of course not!”

Rose frowns, grins and chuckles, all at the same time. “You responded too fast, you ass! I’m a girl with delicate feelings too, you know?” Seeing Sorey look flustered, she laughs heartily, clapping Sorey hard on his back and adds, “but that’s what I like about you.”

\---

As soon as they sit down with ice cream, Rose gestures at Sorey, then herself, saying, “Talk. Eat. Go.”

Sorey is amazed all over again at how perceptive and direct Rose is. She had seen through the ice cream offer as a cry for help immediately. He stares at his vanilla soft serve and tries to figure out where to start. 

After a couple minutes, Rose is licking her fingers already, and Sorey is still frozen in thought, his ice cream not so frozen. Rose sighs, “Give it here. It’s Mikleo isn’t it. What’d he do this time?”

“Nothing!” Sorey jumps, a little too suddenly. He hands his ice cream over to Rose to hide his blush into his arm. “I was surprised the kids seemed really happy Mikleo senpai isn’t here today.” It’s easier to talk about just today, and it's easier to talk about martial arts. 

Between bites, Rose chirps, “Obviously. He’s not you. The kids love you.” 

Apparently, Mikleo senpai has many faults, he heard today. He’s too strict. He demands too much. He’s scary. He’s mean. He’s not fun like Sorey senpai. He’s not gentle like Sorey senpai. 

The unanimous negative review surprised Sorey. Sorey has considered Mikleo to be perfect for so long that he had come to assume everyone feels that way about Mikleo. They might not be wrong either: Mikleo picks up skills so easily and naturally that he can forget what it’s like to struggle; he’s competitive and sometimes forgets to go easy on his juniors; his cute turn of chin and smirk can come across as haughty. Sorey forgets that Mikleo hates to show his weaknesses publicly. He puts a lot of effort into looking good every morning; only Sorey gets to see Mikleo with bed head and pillow creases on his cheeks. He studies like a demon at home, and gloats at looking effortless outside. No one would believe Sorey if he tells them Mikleo is a bit of a slob at home and loses things easily. Or would they? 

A strange new thought to Sorey: “Maybe no one else thinks Mikleo is the definition of Perfection?”

“The definition of WHAT?” Rose has that [What The Fuck] expression on her face, which quickly turns into a rude guffaw. 

Apparently he said that out loud. “Well, he is, kind of?” Sorey blushes just a little. He’s not embarrassed at telling the truth, but is embarrassed by the attention from Rose. 

Rose’s eyebrows knit together in her special perceptive way. “Pretty sure even Mikleo doesn’t think he’s perfect. It’s like you put him on a pedestal.” Rose finishes off her second serving of free ice cream with a satisfied grin. She ribs good naturedly, “I mean, Have you taken a good look at the guy recently?”

Sorey looks into Rose’s eyes with a start. Look at Mikleo. That was Lailah’s parting advice wasn’t it? That family doesn’t need to look, friends stand side by side, but lovers look at each other. Sorey frowns with deeply furrowed brows and looks down at his hands again. They’re not lovers, and Mikleo was suffering because of it. Because Sorey doesn’t look at Mikleo that way. 

“I’ll take that as a no, then. Geesh, Sorey. I know you adore your pretty brother, but I feel sorry for him if you can’t even see his weaknesses.”

Sorey interprets the word “weakness” as a martial artist: if I can’t see his weakness, then I can’t cover his side, and that leaves him open for attacks. Mikleo would get hurt. Mikleo did get hurt. It’s because Sorey hadn’t noticed that Mikleo had been feeling weak and hurt for a long time, that he made up his mind to leave for Italy with Lailah in order to heal. 

Conscious that he hasn’t been saying much even though he was the one who asked Rose for help, Sorey puts that thought on hold, looks back up at Rose, and tries a different angle, “What does it mean to be in love with someone?”

Even though that came out of nowhere, Rose only paused for a second. “What happened. Tell me.” All traces of teasing disappear from her now concerned expression. 

Sorey swallows audibly, and explains with many pauses in between, “You know how I’ve mentioned that we’re not biologically brothers? We’re not….friends either. Mikleo was in love with me. I didn’t know. So now he’s gone because he can’t stand to be near me anymore.”

Rose’s jaw dropped, but before she could blurt out how messed up it was that these guys live together not as brothers or friends, she remembers her own confusing situation with her blind non-friend, and bites her lip. Sorey needs help right now, not judgement. Taking a deep breath, Rose tries to put the pieces of the puzzle together, “He hides the hurt well. But why did he tell you now if he was leaving anyway?”

Sorey doesn’t really know clearly either, other than a vague notion that it’s his fault. It’s been a giant pile of tangled yarn in his brain: whenever he tugs on one strand, five other strands tangle up tighter. There’s their living situation, their physical intimacy, their unsupervised time together, the Italy trip, Mikleo growing up, Mikleo graduating first, Sorey screwing it all up, and mainly Sorey screwing it all up. He’s so thankful for Rose. “I begged him to….not leave? No, I don’t want him to put his life on hold. He said I can try to be in love with him too, or he will give up and we can ever only be just friends. I have to figure it out and fall in love with him when he comes back. Like, for realsies. He’s too smart I can’t fake it, don’t suggest that.”

Rose can’t make sense out of the pile of second hand yarn either. “If you’re not in love with him, and he’s going for some air to clear his head, why is that a desperately horrible thing to you? You’re always going to be brothers. You’re always going to be family. You’re always going to be friends.” Must be nice to have family, Rose thinks to herself.

Sorey feels like he has a fraction of a coherent thought at the edge of his peripheral brain vision, but it’s too fleeting by far. Every time he chases it, it escapes to the new periphery, like chasing a dog’s own tail. 

“I remember you being all psyched, talking about being best man at Mikleo’s future wedding, that one time. This explains Mikleo’s weird look. But what is your deal now that he’s giving up.” Wait a minute. Eureka! In excitement, she jumps out of her chair, slams the table with her left hand, and throws her spoon at Sorey with her right hand. “Because you have him up on that stupid pedestal! You only ever thought it’d be someone better than you!”

The spoon struck Sorey on the left cheek like a tiny plastic lightning bolt, but when Sorey reaches up to nurse the sting, he touches the part of his forehead where Mikleo had written on instead. Sorey recognises at once that Rose is absolutely right: he’s never thought about it because it was outside the realm of possibility. Mikleo’s unexpected love for Sorey had given a name to a desire that Sorey has never dared dream to desire. He looks at Rose with what he hopes is a thankful expression. 

“God, you’re such a dope. With a super dopey face. And Mikleo’s an even bigger dope.” Rose, satisfied that she’s cracked the code, relaxes into her chair and rubs her temples as if this talk is giving her a headache. “Your bullshit is so much above ice cream pay grade. You better bring me some of your Aunt Edna’s stuff to make up for it.”

So, Sorey is allowed to be in love with Mikleo, too. Sorey smiles such a big smile that even he feels he must look a little dopey right at that moment.

Rose smiles indulgently at Sorey. He's dopey but he's earnestly and adorably dopey. She hopes he finds happiness. “You asked about love. Heck if I know. But here's one part of it, I guess. Free advice, your mileage may vary, no refund exchange or liability accepted.” She says all in one breath like a late night infomercial. “When you're in love, you want the person for yourself. It's impossible to share, and impossible to wish them well with someone else. You want them to look only at you and never someone else.” 

If Sorey is the perceptive type, he would notice Rose's sad smile and slight sigh. But he isn't and he's busy thinking about what Rose just said. He mumbles thanks, then changes topic to something happier to talk about. 

 

\---

Mikleo has enjoyed the last few days in Italy. Taking in new sights and sounds and smells has done wonders for his melancholy. His world feels bigger, and with every breath he feels a little bigger himself. Being adored and being told how beautiful and elegant he is by strangers is also a nice change. Mikleo needed this more than he had known. 

Being in love with someone who doesn't return your feelings is lonely, diminishing work. It gives you tunnel vision. When one has been sensitive to hurt and embarrassment for this long, every breeze and droplet of rain makes one retreat under an ever shrinking awning. He had fled home with tail between his legs to heal, and over here, healing he is. 

When his phone ran out of battery, Mikleo decides not to recharge it. Folks who need him can reach Lailah anyway.


	5. The Gospel According To Edna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Edna talks about her past in an effort to encourage Sorey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know if anyone is even reading, but if you are, thank you very much. :) It would mean a lot to me if you can comment with "here" or even anything negative you didn't like about this story. Thank you~

Sorey is practicing with his wooden sword, in the living room, wearing only his old boxer shorts, when Edna lets herself into the house unannounced. Self conscious of his half nakedness and potential holes in his boxers, he yelps and dives behind the couch that divides the entry way from the living room. 

Edna, totally unphased, says in her usual monotone, “I’ve changed your soiled diapers, brat. Take my bags to my room, then bring me a drink.” With that said, she leaves her bags by the door, walks over to Sorey's side of the couch without even a glance, sits, and starts looking at her phone, twirling her Normin phone charm with her little finger.

Edna says “her room”, but it's really the spare guest room in Lailah’s home where Edna stays whenever she visits. When Zaveid stays, he prefers the couch. Zaveid doesn’t have a key, and Sorey wasn’t expecting Her Highness to be using hers again so soon after being here for Mikleo's graduation. 

\---

Now all dressed and bags put away, Sorey brings a bottle of scotch and a glass over to Edna gladly. Despite the diminutive lady’s sharp tongue, he’s glad to have someone else here in the empty house. Sorey isn't sure how she managed to put all the heavy furniture back in their place so quickly and quietly, dressed in her brand’s signature laces, ribbons and delicate frills. 

“You rude child, making a lady drink all by herself? You look like you need a drink more than I do. Surely there’s some weak beer or fermented fruit in the kitchen for you.” 

Sorey doesn’t react to Edna’s barbs in the entertaining way that Mikleo does. He knows how to read the undertones of concern in Edna’s voice, behind the smirk and disdainful lack of eye contact. Sorey makes another trip to the kitchen, and comes back with a radler left over from his camping trip with Mikleo several months ago. “Thanks for coming to check up on me, Edna,” he says with a warm, sincere smile that Edna ignores.

She rolls her eyes anyway because she can sense the warmth radiating from that smile without even looking. Pouring herself a drink, toasting the air, she says, “Thank you, Lailah, for leaving your booze worse than unguarded.”

His smile dampening a little, Sorey says, “I’m very thankful to Lailah as well. Maybe I don’t tell her that enough.” When Edna doesn’t say anything back, Sorey adds, “You can laugh at me if you want, and I know I’m being dumb too. But I’m having a hard time, feeling like maybe taking care of Mikleo and I are too much for her. Especially now….” He trails off at the end, unsure how much Edna has guessed about the awkward situation between him and Mikleo.

Edna looks away, and says in a small voice, “You should talk to Lailah about that when she comes home.”

“I will. I need to thank her for sacrificing so much for Mikleo and I. She didn't have to quit her job. She didn't have to take us in. She gave up so much to allow Mikleo and I to stay together. I owe her everything.” 

Edna, offended, turns to stare Sorey in the eyes, and says through gritted teeth, “You assume folks do things altruistically for no reason other than out of the goodness of their pure shining heart. It's disrespectful.” She spat out that word. ”If you assume they have no reasons of their own, you won't understand how they truly feel. If you don’t ask them why they do what they do, you’re choosing to keep them silent. What heights of arrogance and depths of ignorance.”

Sorey holds Edna’s gaze in surprise, fidgeting slightly, uncomfortable with the accusation but has a guess at her seriousness. Breaking eye contact first, he opens his radler and takes a slow sip, contemplating the sugary citrus fizz.

Edna continues in her flat voice, calm again, “Then again, what else can I expect from the vice president of Dum Dum Academy school committee. I suppose you’ll be president next year, since Tweedle-dee graduated.” 

Sorey notes that Edna has been more talkative than usual. Without anyone else to dilute the concentration of verbal attacks, Sorey feels rather naked in front of her all over again, his head spinning a little. “Edna, since you’re not here for no reason other than the goodness of your heart,“ he says, talking into his drink, with an edge of something ever so slightly darker than he expects from himself, “should I assume you’re here for some selfish reason you can tell me about?”

She won’t admit it but she’s slightly impressed at Sorey’s attempt to sass her back, even if the attempt is to annoyingly pry into her business while also avoiding having to seriously contemplate what she said. “I’ll tell you when you’re drunk,” she diffuses the tension easily with a grin. 

Sorey scratches at an imaginary itch on his blushing cheeks, and says with a sheepish smile and a tiny burp, “Too late? Gotta pee!” 

Edna flicks her phone charm in surprised annoyance. “Seriously?! What's the alcohol content of that juice box, like, 1%?!”

Sorey shouts through the washroom door, “Sorry, I guess I forgot to eat today. It took me more than one last time…”

Usually, Mikleo's the one who forgets to eat during his hyper focus phases, and Sorey is the one who spoon feeds him without blushing. Without someone to take care of, it seems Sorey isn't even taking care of himself anymore. Unlike Mikleo’s focus forgetfulness, Sorey has been too distracted and restless to eat.

When he comes back from the washroom, it seems he sobered up as quickly as he got tipsy. “I'll microwave us something to eat. Edna, do you want Lailah's or Mikleo's?” 

“About time you offered your honoured guest something to eat. Bring me something good. Lailah's Merlot braised ox tail.” It’s one of Lailah’s signature dishes she affectionately nicknamed Dragon Stew. There’s gotta be some.

When Sorey sits down next to Edna again with food, he is starving. He burns his tongue a little from eagerness, but he doesn't slow down. 

“If you weren’t raised by us I'd think you were raised by wolves.” She shakes her head at Sorey, smiling not unkindly, “So? Aren't you going to tell your sweet aunt Edna about your boy troubles?”

Sorey chokes on his bit of ox tail and coughs for a good minute. How did she know? Then again, how does Edna not know anything? It's been a week since Sorey has heard from Mikleo. He used to at least say hello during the daily calls to Lailah, but lately Lailah just apologetically makes up one excuse or another for why Mikleo doesn't want to come to the phone. Of course Sorey can't help sounding more disappointed by the day. That must be why Lailah asked Edna to come check up on Sorey. 

He's glad Edna is here. She can make fun of him all she wants, but he really needs someone to make the big house feel like a home tonight, even if it's just one night. Sorey finishes the ox tail in silence, appreciative that Edna doesn't seem to care enough to rush the topic. Finally he puts the empty box down on the coffee table, puts his knees up on the couch to hug them, and meekly mumbles into his knees, “Mikleo is avoiding me. No text, no calls, and for the last week he won't even say hi when I talk to Lailah.”

Edna was so quiet Sorey isn't sure if she heard. She slowly puts her mostly finished box down, dabs her mouth with a lacey handkerchief, pours herself another drink, and finally looks at Sorey. A glint of savage anger in her eyes makes it clear she heard Sorey all right. 

Time to go for blood. “A week. A single week.” she enunciates each syllable, “You broke Meebo. He’s no fun to tease anymore since he became a big loser. All's fair in love and war, Meebo says. Whoever sinks in more resources and affection than they can afford to lose is the loser, and I don't even know how long Meebo has been a loser over you.”

It hit home. Sorey’s breath catches in his throat. Then, feeling heat rise to his cheeks and his pulse roaring in his ears, his chest heaves with deep frustrated breaths. Childishly, Sorey thinks, what does she know, forgetting that despite Edna's perpetually childish exterior she's lived ages longer than he. 

Edna finishes the rest of her drink with a delicate gulp, calming down again into her stone cold stoicism. “Meebo sees relationships as a kind of competition, so because he cares more, he loses. It was amusing to watch for a while but now it’s just plain sad.” She really is trying to help them. Sorey cannot recall another instance when Edna has talked to him to this much, as a fellow adult even if not an equal. “You know nothing about waiting.” 

Slowly, she tucks her legs up on the couch, and turning her back towards Sorey, nudges him into a mirrored position with her back leaning up against his. Sorey notes how small she is, delicately letting him be this close to her. Her voice, no longer the usual monotone, is so small it's easy to miss if Sorey even breathes loudly. He slows down his breathing even more, eyes focusing on the large mural of Selene/Muse/Zaveid that covers the living room wall. 

“Eizen didn't just up and die like Selene and Muse did. I'd had to bury him long before the end; over and over I had to scatter dirt on his grave before he breathed his last.” Sorey recalls that Eizen, Edna's older brother whose oversized imposing image covers her entire living room, had died slowly with a neurological degenerative disease. Edna continues, “Near the end, not only was he unable to recognise me, he didn’t even have any memories left of me. I can stand the lashing out, the violent tempers, the cuts he gave me and the bruises from things he threw, but to keep losing him over and over as his memories flicker in and out, that broke me. I thought I knew pain when he became too weak to carry me in his arms. I didn't count on the weeks, months and years when Eizen, my bigger brother who loomed as large as the whole earth, dwindled into a pile of bones and sinew. I lifted him into endless wheelchairs, and into those accursed stretchers, even more furious when it was no longer even a struggle to do so. But he would remember me once in a blue moon. His disease was like a kidnapper, who keeps the real Eizen trapped in a dark dungeon. It would keep Eizen from me for weeks at a time, only to let him out in gasps and sobs, just long enough to make sure I couldn't leave. Eizen would scream for me to save him from the doctors, and plead with a child's voice to go back to our home, and that would be a good day. The bad were much more frequent. The disease twisted Eizen's features into a mockery of his true self, moved his mouth to say vile things, and moved his arms to hit me, like a possessed puppet.”

Sorey can only listen in horror. Coddled child of only 18 who has never known violence and illness, he can only imagine the pain Edna must have been through. Edna sits back to back with Sorey because she is hiding her tears. Sorey reaches a hand behind himself and easily finds hers, cold and trembling. He gives her hand a gentle squeeze to let her know he's listening. 

“You think you know pain when Meebo’s been away somewhere, healthy and happy. What I wouldn't give and what I wouldn't destroy in a heartbeat, to have Eizen somewhere in the world I can never reach, as long as he's happy and pain free, even for a day.” Edna takes a series of slow deep breaths, gently squeezing Sorey's hand back to let him know her anger doesn't lie with him. “Treasure your memories with him. Even if he never comes back to you, treasure the fact that he exists somewhere. Wait for him, or not; sometimes what we choose doesn't matter. He's waited this long for you. That's already a happiness beyond the lot of mortals.”

With one last squeeze, she gets up off the couch and shivers slightly at the loss of Sorey's body heat. Sorey gets up as well, walking in the opposite direction to give her privacy, to fetch a thermos full of hot water with lemon and honey. When he comes back to the living room Edna has already retired to her room. He sits the thermos outside her door, gives it a single tap, and goes upstairs to his room. 

That night Sorey decides to send Mikleo a postcard. 

“Thank you for having loved me. Even if I've missed my chance, I will be forever grateful for the memories you have given me. I am so thankful you exist.” 

Sorey knows that Mikleo won't receive this for another few weeks. But that's okay, he thinks, he just wants his feelings to be heard, not necessarily answered. 

\---

Mikleo has had a very busy week. 6 cities in 7 days was like looking through a kaleidoscope while riding a carousel, not nearly long enough at any one place to explore to his heart's content but colourful and exhilarating. Lailah looks worried about Mikleo declining to speak to Sorey on the phone. But Mikleo isn't too worried. He had only given himself a limit of 7 days during an especially busy week to test how well he is getting along without Sorey. He feels much more relaxed, and no longer has that twisting feeling in his stomach when he thinks about the coming year without Sorey. At the same time, he still finds himself thinking a lot about him. He would love this restaurant; he would like this cemetery; I wonder what he thinks about this column; I can't wait to show him this mural. For the first time in many months, Mikleo finds himself smiling when he thinks about Sorey. Mikleo knows that he is going to be okay.


	6. The Gospel According To Zaveid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With everyone's help, plus Zaveid's, Sorey feels he has arrived at an answer for Mikleo.

It’s a beautiful evening in July. The sun is shining brightly at the lake-side beach, a large crowd already gathering for the fireworks much later this evening. Sorey usually comes to the annual event with his family, but this year it will be just him, Zaveid, and several hundred thousand citizens of Ladylake. It’s hard for Sorey to feel lonely today. Mikleo had exchanged more texts with him earlier in the day. Sorey feels nigh invincible. 

Sorey walks along the long beach front, checking out various food trucks and small vendors of beach toys. Last year they had camped out a large spot around noon, and played UNO and volleyball and Spaceteam until sunset. Edna was surprisingly--or unsurprisingly--good at giving orders to everyone in nonsensical Sci Fi gibberish with a perfectly straight face. Mikleo had been adorably flustered by the whole exercise, especially when the game asks everyone to shake their mobile phones to clear the asteroids or something. Lailah, almost too polite for the game, always waited for a gap to make her requests instead of shouting it out in a jumble like everyone else. Rose even came too, but she was more focused on hawking ziploc baggies of margaritas from a cooler and watching for cops to really be playing. Rose’s sight impaired friend, Dezel (Friend? Roommate? No one was sure), couldn’t play Spaceteam, even with the screen reader, but by then everyone needed a break from Dezel absolutely dominating them at word games and trivia games. Zaveid dropped in and out of their games to presumably go chat up bikini clad babes. 

Who even buys margaritas in ziploc baggies out of a cooler at the beach? Rose made a killing though. She was banking on the fact that their party was full of attractive people in swimwear, having a good time, as advertisement: folks would wander over pretending not to look, and she would offer them an excuse to come even closer. As for illegally selling alcoholic beverages without a liquor or health license, she was right to assume it would be hard to imagine friends of Sorey doing anything illegal anywhere. 

Sorey buys two sets of lamb souvlaki donair to go. This year it will be just him and Zaveid. Since Rose is being all kinds of mysterious about her plans, Sorey is too afraid to ask how illegal it will be this year. The donairs are piping hot and smell divine. Sorey had asked for an unholy amount of tzatziki sauce on his, so it needs to be eaten right away before everything disintegrates into a sopping mess. He races to Zaveid’s beach front condo building, enters the password combination, rides the elevator up to the penthouse suite with the spare key Zaveid gave him, and lets himself in. 

Zaveid is standing in front of the floor to ceiling window overlooking the beach, half naked as usual, probably looking at bikini clad babes. When Sorey walks closer he notices that he’s chatting over speaker phone. Ah, Sorey thinks, it must be Edna, because today is also the anniversary of Eizen’s passing. 

The three of them chat over donairs, about random things totally unrelated to Eizen. Sorey sits comfortably on Zaveid’s futon couch, the wall of floor to ceiling window to his left, the wall with the elevator and the rest of Zaveid’s condo to his right, the wall with Siegfried the unloaded gun in a gigantic shadow box behind him, and a totally blank wall in front of him. This is Zaveid’s living room, but it doesn’t look like the kind of space where anyone does any living. It has no furniture except the futon, and it has no decorations of any kind except for Siegfried. Zaveid says he wants to keep this room open and flexible for when he entertains guests, but Sorey wonders more about the nights when Zaveid isn’t entertaining guests, sitting on this same futon staring at the totally blank wall. 

The sterile room is in stark contrast to the other living room Sorey associates with Zaveid. Until a year or so ago, Zaveid, like Edna, has had a key to Lailah’s home. He was a regular installment in their home for years and years, from even before Mikleo and Sorey had moved in. Even though he was there most days of the week, and Edna was only there several times a year, Edna was given the guest room and Zaveid slept on the couch. Apparently the arrangement was on purpose. Zaveid seemed to prefer the white leather couch in front of the giant 12’ mural of Muse, Selene and Young Zaveid--a reproduction of a perfume ad that the trio had done together in their modelling days, back when Lailah was manager of young talents instead of a late night radio DJ. 

From the snippets Sorey overheard when Lailah asked for her key back, when Zaveid wasn’t in their home, he was sleeping in the beds of random encounters and conquests instead of his own home. Taking the key was for his own good, she had said. Sorey wonders if the futon he is sitting on was purchased around the same time. 

The weight of Zaveid plunking down next to Sorey, and a strong arm draping around his shoulders, shakes Sorey out of his thoughts. “So, Sorey! You’re looking all bright and chipper today. And it’s about to get better.” Zaveid says with his usual grin, leaning in very close to Sorey’s face, “I got something juicy to show ya.”

Edna’s smirk over the tablet’s screen suggests it can’t be anything good. “You can thank me later. I’ll email you a copy of each that you can admire in your _own_ bedroom later. And don’t worry, I won’t tell Mikelo you’ve been sleeping in his bed all summer, as long as you move back starting tonight.”

So she had noticed after all, when she visited. Sorey blushes furiously. It had been innocent: back at the beginning of summer after Lailah and Mikleo left, Sorey had trouble going to sleep at the usual hours. By the time the early summer sun shines through Sorey’s East facing window, he had only maybe gotten a few hours of sleep. Moving into Mikleo’s South facing bedroom hadn’t completely been about nuzzling into Mikleo’s old pillows, blankets and smells. 

Impossibly, Sorey blushes even harder when he realises what his helpful elders are showing him on the tablet screen. They are pictures of Mikleo in various kinds of poses and various kinds of...clothes. Growing up around fashion folks, from osmosis Sorey knows not to lightly call something haute couture, but these are clearly fashion pictures of Mikleo wearing...things...that sure looks like they were tailor made specifically for Mikleo to wear. 

There’s one of him draped in cerulean silk, reclining sideways on a chaise. The chair, wall, and floor are covered in the identical silk pattern. Instead of disappearing into the background, Mikleo’s piercing eyes, the folds along the curve of his slender waist and the translucent creamy skin of his one exposed shoulder and one exposed leg captures and enslaves the viewer’s focus. 

There’s one of Mikleo in a highly landscaped Italian garden, standing on a dais, in the middle of a pond. He’s wearing something like a toga dress that’s marble white with blue accents. He looks like a statue of perfect Renaissance beauty come to life. In this picture, Mikleo is wearing either a wig or extensions that have his natural silver hair with blue tips tied loosely in a long pony tail. Sorey never knew he wanted to see Mikleo with long hair until now. 

Another is of Mikleo in a room as green as a forest, wearing a military parade uniform, wearing a circlet, looking into a mirror, taking a selfie. An anachronistic version of Narcissus, apparently. The composition could be ironic and funny with anyone else, but beholding Mikleo’s ethereal beauty, Sorey can imagine mortals falling into the role of Echo.

Most of the pictures are of Mikleo wearing something more resembling ready made clothing, in a studio setting. Honestly, he looks very good in whatever they throw on him. It’s clear that Lailah’s old contacts from the fashion world are enjoying their time with Muse’s son. 

When the parade of pictures is over, Sorey furrows his brows, feeling a pit in his stomach with an unfamiliar feeling. “These aren’t….” he begins, and trails off when he can’t find the words. 

“Professional?” Edna comes back on the screen and guesses at Sorey’s thoughts. “No, they’re just for fun. Meebo knows nothing about modelling and his androgynous proportions are really niche. Although I’m sure they’re all thinking he’s better looking than half of the girls they work with. It’ll be up to him.” Edna’s work is a very niche part of the fashion world. She manages a private brand that makes costumes, Gothic and/or Sweet Lolita pieces for cosplayers and private collectors for hefty prices. The job takes her around the globe to different fandom conventions as well as life style tea parties and meetups. It’s a mainly online and word of mouth type business, but Mikleo would look really good in those costumes if she ever wants promotional material. 

“Oh ho ho! What’s this?” Zaveid squeezes Sorey a little more, poking at Sorey’s right cheek with a finger, “Don’t want anyone else noticing what you’ve got to yourself at home, eh?”

“NO! It’s not that! I would be happy to have more people think--” Sorey stops before giving himself up entirely that he thinks Mikleo is utterly gorgeous. It’s too late though, by years. Zaveid and Edna are just being mean, he thinks. “I don’t know what I think, actually. And I don’t have him to myself at home. As you two well know.” He sighs and pouts, adorable in his own right. He leans his head on Zaveid’s shoulder, slightly dejected.

Edna and Zaveid exchange a glance. Yes, they both know things are still weird between the best friends. And he was so chipper and full of energy this evening when he came in, too. Maybe they’ve gone a tad too far? Nah.

It’s Zaveid’s chance to step up as uncle/big brother. “So what’s your plan, big guy? What have you figured out on your own?” 

Sorey closes his eyes, smiles a little, comforted by Zaveid’s sincere literal shoulder to lean on. “I figured out that Mikleo is important to me. He’s always going to be family to me. He’s always going to be my best friend, even if I’m no longer his.” He’s always going to be the most important thing to me, even if I’m no longer his, he adds in his thoughts. 

“And more than that?” Edna asks aloud with slight irritation; Zaveid was about to ask the same. Isn't that always what Sorey already thinks?

“I don’t really understand romantic love yet. But I’m going to try. I promised him I would.” Sorey looks at peace and confident with his answer. “Even if he no longer feels that way, it will be my decision to love him without expecting anything in return.”

Zaveid’s grin widens in pride. He lays the tablet down behind him on the futon, and with both hands, take hold of Sorey’s shoulders, and look into his eyes. In his sultry Radio DJ voice, he instructs, “Don’t give up on that so soon. It’s only been a couple months. If he says he doesn’t feel that way anymore, you _convince_ him he’s wrong.” He pushes forward suggestively, and Sorey feels pressure to tip backwards, until Zaveid has him pinned down under him on the futon. “You _seduce_ him.”

Sorey can hear Edna cackling behind Zaveid, but he’s failing to see the funny. Zaveid is damn near on top of him, his face only inches away. He doesn't need a live demonstration of what Zaveid means by seduction. Sorey’s legs are still on the side of futon, so he’s basically in an awkward L position with the heavier male on top, now shifting both knees onto the futon, on all fours, to press Sorey firmly into place. He doesn’t feel seduced: he feels like he’s about to be...something!! Sorey’s mind is panicking and he has no coherent thoughts. “EDNA!” he manages to shout. They’re just teasing him, he knows, but he doesn't want to have to shout “safeword!” to get out of it.

“Don’t think about other people when you’re with me.” Zaveid looks down at Sorey with a wolfish expression, using one hand to hold Sorey’s chin so he can only look straight at him, his breath hot on his face. “Don’t you dare think about other people when I’ve got you here like this.”

Sorey’s face feels hot. All he can think about is pushing Zaveid off, and he hasn’t got the brain power left to do it in a way that won’t injure him too hard. But before he decides to act, Zaveid flips off of Sorey, and bounces one kick length away from Sorey with his open palms up in the air like white flags, and a huge grin on his face. 

Dammit, what in the hell?! Sorey breathes hard with equal parts relief, anger, and confusion. 

Edna’s deadpan voice comes in, she’s shouting a bit to compensate being further away from Sorey. “Relax, kiddo. Pick up the tablet.” She waits until Sorey complies. Zaveid walks off to the kitchen for some drinks, laughing. “Old man gross here gave you not bad advice. It didn’t feel right did it? But if it had been Mikleo? Think about it. You said he’s family and a friend. We’re your family and friends, you dummy. Anyway, thanks for the chat and the laugh today, Sorey. And say thanks to Mikleo for me.” She pans the camera to show a large bouquet of sunflowers and orange-brown gerberas on her table. Mikleo sent these to her hotel in New York in memory of Eizen. She seems very thankful to not feel alone today. “I’ll leave the talk about the birds and the bees to Zaveid. Goodnight.” 

Zaveid comes back into the living room with a beer for himself and tosses a Cola towards Sorey. Sorey puts the tablet down in a hurry to jump up and catch the flying drink. Sorey punches Zaveid in the arm, then opens the peace offering and takes a sip, laughing together. Outside, the sun has just set and a single fireworks flower blossoms with a boom, signaling five minutes until show time. Zaveid pushes the futon towards the glassed wall. They’re going to have a fantastic view up here. The two of them sip their beers in silence for a minute, sitting next to each other with comfortable distance. 

Sorey’s the first to speak. “I think I know what you were trying to say. I don't want my family doing that with me.”

Zaveid chuckles. “No need to thank me. I’m a well experienced grown ass man, so maybe it’s obvious to me but not to you.” He sounds a tad more serious than before. Outside, the fireworks show begin, sending echo booms and coloured lights into the living room. “There’s going to be someone out there doing this with Mikleo, sooner rather than later. You can either make it you, or you can make peace with the fact that it’ll be someone else, right here and now.”

“Is it bad if I don't hate the idea it could be someone else?” his entire life, Sorey has thought it would be perfectly reasonable to be someone else. “Someone better maybe.” 

“That’s your honest opinion, but not one made after careful consideration.” Zaveid challenges, his voice full of doubt but without disrespect. He remembers fulfilling a lover's promise, even as it cuts himself to the core. But Sorey's situation isn't anything serious like that. To Zaveid, it just sounds immature. “You mean to say, you're okay if Mikleo meets someone god-like. But what if it's someone bad? Ever think about that?”

Sorey's eyes are glued to the fireworks outside their window, but he thinks he can feel the heat radiating from each explosion. His heart lurches with each boom that echos in his chest. 

Zaveid continues. “You’re okay if it’s some random jerk? Someone who laughs behind his back in the arms of some other. Someone who calls him out in the middle of the night then sends him home alone, after. Someone who just wanted to have a taste of him, just another notch on their belt?”

The fireworks outside are winding down into a grand finale, sending everything up into the sky into a mess of explosions indiscriminately. Sorey feels like all the oxygen is sucked up by the fire outside, leaving his chest heaving. He crushes the empty can in his fist, a drop of sweat falling into his eyes blurring his vision. He's imagining all kinds of things. Would they be able to read his every look, his coded smiles? Would they indulge him just enough but not too much? Would they know how to be gentle with Mikleo? 

The fireworks are over. Beams of light from police helicopters shine back and forth, guiding the crowd. Zaveid gets up from the couch, pats Sorey on the shoulder twice, and says, “You gotta be a little selfish here. You can be a little more egotistical, you know. If you think you can do better, if you think you know him better, then own it.” 

“Fireworks night would have been nicer with him, I think.” Sorey turns to offer an awkward smile to Zaveid.

“Little punk.” Zaveid chuckles, folds his fingers into a pretend gun, and shoots Sorey with it. “You’re welcome.” 

\------

When Sorey was leaving Zaveid’s home, the streets have cleared, and a refreshing breeze accompanies him home during the half hour walk. Sorey looks up at the night sky, and thinks the moon looks very beautiful tonight. 

Back at home, he tucks himself into his own feathered duvet, turns off his own lamp, and falls asleep instantly. Sleeping as deeply and sweetly as usual, it feels like no time has passed at all when he wake up to the unique ping of receiving a text from Mikleo.

"You up?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spaceteam is a real game. You and a bunch of buddies who each have smart phones download the app, and have at it. It's insane and silly and very fun. =)


End file.
